


Sinking

by takethisnight_wrapitaroundme



Category: Good Behavior (US TV)
Genre: Car Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:39:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme/pseuds/takethisnight_wrapitaroundme
Summary: (PWP) Rewriting the end of the car scene at the opening of 1x04. For reasons.





	Sinking

**Author's Note:**

> With all the countless car scenes we had in S1, I still can’t believe we never got (on-screen) car!sex. So… ;)

When he grabbed her wrist to stop her from leaving the car, she didn't say a word. She had been expecting something like this; part of her had even been hoping for it. She turned and looked at him, her free hand still on the passenger door handle, and she waited, as ever, to see what he would do.

He hesitated longer than she expected. For too many seconds they sat there staring at each other, neither moving nor speaking. She waited for him to tell her to stay, or to tell her to go, or to do  _something_ , but he did nothing.

She could see in his face that there was some battle raging in his mind, but suddenly she didn't care. She didn't give a shit about whatever hang-ups he had; she was sick of waiting; sick of being unsure; she couldn't live like this anymore. So without a word, she lifted her leg over the console between them and climbed into his lap. He tried to speak but she didn't give him a chance to say anything; the second her body was on top of his, so was her mouth.

He kissed her back immediately, as she knew he would, and she reached up, running her hands through his hair, spreading her fingers wide, desperate to feel his skin beneath hers again. It had been two days since she'd last had sex with him, and already that felt like a lifetime.

He shifted beneath her, spreading his legs as wide as the cramped car would allow in order to give her more space, and she took it happily. She lowered her ass down to rub against him, supremely gratified when she felt his hands bury themselves in her hair and pull. She loved knowing that he was just as desperate for her as she was for him.

Her hands dropped from his head to his chest, quickly undoing a few buttons before realizing he was wearing an undershirt and then giving up, moving to greener pastures. He didn't need to be naked for this and neither did she. She dropped her hands to his lap, feeling him up through his jeans, grinning to herself at how hard he was already.

She moved her fingers to the buckle of his belt—but his hands stopped her. He tore his mouth from hers, his breath hot and sharp as he tried to speak.

"Letty, we—"

She knew what he was going to say.

_We can't._

_We're in a car._

_We're in a public parking lot._

_There's a bus full of people ten yards away_.

But she didn't care about any of that. They were all excuses, and she was tired of excuses. She shoved his hands off and reached for his belt again, and this time he didn't protest, just kissed her harder instead. In seconds she had his belt undone and his zipper down and she was taking his erection in her hands, wiping away what was leaking and stroking him hard and fast.

When she sunk down to take him in, he pulled hard on her hair in appreciation and suddenly she wished she'd heeded his unspoken advice about their location. She wished they were somewhere else, somewhere private, for she wanted so badly to scream aloud at how good he made her feel without drawing unwanted attention.

Instead, she settled for planting her hands on either side of his shoulders, gripping them tightly and using the leverage of him beneath her to lift herself up. He groaned deep in his throat as she slid back down onto him, breaking their kiss so he could breathe.

"Fuck, Letty."

He pressed his forehead against her collarbone, panting, and though she still had her clothes on, she could feel the heat of his breath through her shirt. It made her wish she were naked.

She closed her eyes, imagining it. Imagining the way he'd taken her against that hotel desk two nights ago. Imagining how relentlessly he'd fucked her from behind the night they'd met.

Fueled by memories, she sped up her pace, not leaving time for talking and barely any for breathing as she rode him as fiercely as he had her. She came to regret it after only a few minutes; she had forgotten how exhausting and uncomfortable this position was, especially in such a confined space.

Javier seemed to notice. After a few seconds, when her rapid-fire rhythm started to falter, he looked up. Maybe it was there in her eyes when their gazes met, or perhaps he could just sense what was wrong. His hands slid from her back down to her ass, squeezing so that she arched into him. She whimpered softly at the stimulation to her clit as she rubbed against him, her fingers digging deep into the skin of his shoulderblades.

"Come on," he encouraged, pushing himself up into her, trying to return to their previous pace, though it was difficult for him to do much from his position trapped beneath her. "Keep going, Letty."

"I am," she panted, trying, her face coloring from exertion.

"Faster. I want you faster."

"Always so demanding," she huffed, blowing her hair out of her face.

He actually laughed, and she spared him a quick smile in return.

"But really, we need to hurry," he whispered, stretching his neck up so he could kiss her. "The bus is starting to unload."

She glanced over her shoulder, through the windshield, and saw what he meant. All number of people were making their way down off that dilapidated local bus, and she knew once they had their luggage, they'd head in the only direction offered them: towards the local diner, the only open establishment for miles. Which would take them all right past the car she and Javier were in.

"What I would not give for tinted windows right now," she muttered under her breath, quickly picking up the pace again, despite the bone-deep ache in both her thighs.

"Next time," he promised, and her brief laugh was swallowed by another kiss.

He took her ass in his hands again, guiding her forward as she rode him to maximize the stimulation. It was working; her pants were turning into sharp cries at every stroke.

"Come on, come on, come on," he chanted, keeping a wary eye over her shoulder at the disembarking passengers. "You have to be almost there. I can feel you. You're so tight—"

"And you're so hard," she whispered, her eyes falling closed.

He wanted nothing less to sit back and watch her then—he loved seeing the expression on her face when he made her come, how detached from the world she became in the moments before it happened—but they had no time. The bus driver was almost finished unloading the passengers' luggage, people were moving through the parking lot, getting ever closer…

But Letty, not seeming to notice, was slowing on top of him, trying to draw this out and make it last. Javier pushed his hips up into her and pulled on her hair, trying to bring her back into the present, but she merely shook her head and pushed down on his shoulders. She was the one who had started this; she would decide how they'd finish it.

Javier looked over her shoulder, swearing under his breath when he saw a few women walk by the front of the car on their way to the diner. They were less than ten feet away. All it would take for them to be found out was for one or two stupid teenagers to walk by and spot them and point…

"People are coming," he whispered in her ear. "They'll see us together. They'll see you—"

"See me what?" she breathed, and he could hear something familiar in the way her voice dropped. She wrapped her arms tightly around the back of his neck, rocking herself into him. "What will they see?" Her mouth was at his ear. "Tell me."

"They'll see you fucking me," he whispered back, lowering his voice as well. "They won't be sure at first, because you still have your clothes on…"

"I couldn't wait to take off my clothes."

He smirked. "No, you couldn't. And it's only five minutes to the nearest hotel, but even that was too long for you, wasn't it?" He bit the edge of her ear, pulling on the lobe. "So desperate, you are. So hungry."

" _Yes_ ," she whispered, digging her nails into the back of his neck.

"Come on." He lowered his mouth to her neck, scraping his teeth against her skin until she groaned. "Come for me."

She didn't bend to the order at once, but the pressure was getting to her. One, two, three more strokes, and finally she gave a gasp and shattered apart. A couple walking past the car looked over at the sound, or perhaps the sudden movement, but by that time Javier had come as well, burying his face into her neck, and he didn't care who saw. He didn't look up for many minutes, not until he heard the bus start up again and pull away.

Letty lifted her head as well, and after some awkward maneuvering and a few curses, she finally disentangled herself from him and returned to the passenger seat. Suddenly nervous despite his exhaustion, he waited to see what she would do, but she didn't reach for the door again. Instead, she held up her hand, peering closely at it as if trying to read her own palm in the dim glow of the nearby streetlamp.

"What's wrong?" he asked, momentarily concerned she'd hurt herself somehow, though he couldn't imagine how.

"Nothing."

She showed him her hand. Her palm was covered by an unreadable black smudge: the remains of his number, which he'd penned on her skin just before she'd tried to leave the car.

"Do you want me to write it again?" he offered.

She shook her head. "I won't need it," she replied shortly, and he felt what elation he'd found with her a moment ago leave him in an instant. He knew he shouldn't be surprised; it was in her nature to cast aside people after they'd served their purpose, but somehow he'd fooled himself into thinking he was different to her. She was certainly different to him.

But it didn't matter anymore. He'd played his hand in trying to get her to stay, and if it hadn't been enough, then it hadn't been enough. There was nothing else to be done, so he faced forward, staring out the windshield, and waited for her to leave.

But she didn't. When a few seconds passed without the passenger door opening, he couldn't help but turn towards her again. He watched as she put herself back together: reapplying her lipstick, fixing her hair, adjusting her underwear, zipping up her jeans. He knew he should do the same; he should get ready to leave so he could abandon this place the moment she got out and abandoned him, but that didn't happen. She didn't get out of the car.

Instead, she pulled on her seatbelt, clicked it into place, and then turned expectantly towards him.

"You said something about a hotel being close by?"


End file.
